Assassin's Daughter
by Dragonfiere
Summary: Annamay Gregorovitch is the daughter of the world's most dangerous assassin. Will she be able to help Alex Rider uncover the secrets behind the ultrafurturistic Stormbreaker? Or will her family ties force her to kill him?
1. Chapter One Assassin's Daughter

**Assassin's Daughter**

By Naaha

The gun was cold and metallic at my fingertips. I stretched, trying to reach it. Pain seared my leg, making me cry out in agony. I reached again, and managed to grasp the handle of the rifle. I flipped the safety catch and whirled at my attacker. He merely laughed at me.

"What do you think you're doing, Gregorobitch?" he chuckled. I pulled the trigger, feeling the blast of gunpowder as it fired. A jagged hole appeared in his chest, and his smirk froze on his face. His eyes bulged, before he toppled over, dead, at my feet.

"Ugh," I spat, and struggled into a sitting position. My leg felt like it was on fire, appropriate, seeing as it was broken. I shook my head to clear it of the rifle blast, and then pulled out my throwing dagger. Old-fashioned and medieval, maybe, but it had its uses. I dragged myself to the dead man, and cut his shirt away. I felt a little sorry for him, but then again, he'd tried to kill me.

Using the deceased's shirt and one of my longer throwing knives, I created a splint for my leg, setting the knife against my leg to keep it straight, and then wrapping the shirt around it tightly, grimacing as waves of pain shot up my leg. I hissed when I dug through my pockets, but couldn't find any painkillers. This just got better and better. I emptied the gun of bullets so that I wouldn't shoot myself, and then used it to drag myself to unsteady feet, with the barrel underneath my arm, and the nozzle to the ground.

So far, this mission was a complete disaster. Ian Rider, the agent for the MI6, was dead. Killed by the one man I hated most, Yassen Gregorovitch. And Mr. Sayle, his employer, was still going ahead with his plan for the Stormbreaker. But I had no clue what that plan was. Ian was supposed to meet me here, at this very dock in Port Tallon, to tell me what Sayle was doing to the Stormbreaker computers.

I looked at the dead man again. An accomplice of Gregorovitch. I snorted; what had the assassin been thinking, sending an under-experienced man to fight me? In my own, personal opinion, Yassen Gregorovitch was going a bit in his head. And then I thought of him, with his bright red hair, pale blue eyes, tall, athletic build, before looking down at myself. If you put myself and Yassen together, you wouldn't be able to tell us apart, besides the fact that he was taller than I was, if only by a few inches. I thought of his face, before I had run away from him. Furious, but pained and sad too. Agonized.

There was no getting away from it. Yassen Gregorovitch has sent this man after me, because he still loved me. Annamay Gregorovitch. His only daughter.


	2. Chapter Two Meeting Alex

Chapter One Meeting Alex

The first time I set eyes on Alex Rider, I was still recovering from my broken leg. My cast had just barely come off the week before; there was a slight limp in my step. I had several cuts and gashes on my arms and neck, compliments of the deceased's homemade pipe bomb. A special present just for me, now wasn't that thoughtful? Not.

I also had bruises from where the man had hit me. Not that I hadn't given _him_ any broken bones, but I was still bitter that he'd been able to get past my defenses enough to land a couple hits.

I waited patiently in the Royal & General Bank elevator, and hit the basement button. The other passengers looked at me curiously, but I paid them no attention. Everyone was off by the time I made it to my destination, which was the whole reason. No person other than MI6 operatives, generals, spies, and head honchos was supposed to see the secret MI6 base underneath the fake face of the Royal & General Bank.

The elevator dinged, and I stepped into a white room filled with computers, suits, and high-tech maps. At the end of the small pathway between computer desks, there was a large glass office, the windows tinted so dark that you couldn't even see in. I stalked past twenty year olds and older men, my flat leather boots making almost no sound on the polished marble floor.

"Hey, babe, want to go out for a bite? Lunch on me!" a young man called out. I stopped and turned to look at him. He had brown hair that was cropped short, and bright blue eyes. He probably thought himself as handsome, but I didn't agree.

"Listen," I said, "First of all, I'm fourteen." That seemed to catch his attention. "Secondly, I am a spy _and _an assassin." He started to back away slowly. I took a step toward him. "Thirdly, _you_ need to get back to work. I've got a mission call." I turned away again. I could hear his rapid, panicked breathing as I left. Good. I'd scared him.

I placed a hand on the smooth metal doorknob of the tinted glass door. Should I knock? Before I could decided, a cold, stony voice called, "Come in." I turned the handle of the door, and stepped in.

The floor was the same colored marble as outside. There was a large computer like screen that took up an entire wall. A dark cherry wood desk was sat in a corner with a sleek black laptop sitting on top of it. Behind the desk, an old man with gray hair, gray eyes, gray skin, and wearing a gray suit sat on a black leather seat. Shivers ran up and down my spine as I looked at Mr. Blunt, the head operative of MI6.

Standing next to his seat, Mrs. Jones, wearing a purple skirtsuit, and sucking a peppermint, was looking at a young teenage boy. He wore loose denim jeans, a black striped polo shirt, and black Vans. His blonde hair fell into his gorgeous green eyes, and his expression was one of surprise.

"Mrs. Jones, Mr. Blunt," I said stiffly. Mrs. Jones smiled, suddenly all motherly. Mr. Blunt simply nodded.

"Annamay, welcome back," Mrs. Jones said warmly. I graced her with a small grin; she wasn't too bad.

"Yes, Miss Gregorovitch, welcome back from your mission." Blunt sounded bored. "As you might have heard, you are needed on yet another mission. I hope you are ready."

I glanced at the teenager. He met my gaze squarely, and in his eyes, I saw nothing but bewilderment. I stalked up to Blunt's desk, and slammed my hand down on the dark cherry wood, making everyone jump.

"Listen, Blunt," I spat, "I have been on fifteen missions in a row, _without_ any respite, or anything. I have gone from one assignment to another. I haven't had any sleep in three weeks. So, no, I am NOT ready for this assignment." My furious voice resounded throughout the office.

"You will have three weeks to rest up, then," Mr. Blunt said, not at all surprised at my outburst. I glowered at him, not at all impressed by his cool mood.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Mrs. Jones said to the teenager, "Alex, this is your partner for this mission, Annamay Gregorovitch. Annamay, this is Alex Rider." I stared at the handsome blonde boy, and thought of Ian Rider, comparing the two faces. I noticed the same high cheekbones, and the same piercing gaze. Oh, god, he was so hot...

"What is our assignment?" Alex Rider asked. His voice was soft, and yet...commanding. Just like Ian's.

"Your assignment," Mr. Blunt said, "is to infiltrate Sayle Enterprises."

"No," I said, "I'm NOT going back there."

"You don't have a choice," Mr. Blunt said. I ground my teeth in frustration, but said nothing.

"There was a competition in a computer magazine, Disk Drive World," Mrs. Jones continued for Mr. Blunt. "Have you ever read it?"

"No," Alex admitted. I smirked; too bad _I_ was the computer geek this time.

"The first prize was a visit to Sayle Enterprises, to try out the new Stormbreaker," Mr. Blunt cut in, throwing a nasty look at Mrs. Jones. She didn't seem to notice. A picture of the front page of Disk Drive World popped up on the large computer screen, depicting a young man with braces, glasses, and a bad hair cut.

"This youg man's name is Kevin," Mr. Blunt said, a little bit bored. "You will be going in his place."

"One problem," Alex muttered. Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones stared at him blankly. A little suprised, he said, "I look nothing like him." The picture changed; this time, it had a picture of Alex on it, and at his shoulder, of a beautiful young woman with long red hair, and icy gray-blue eyes. That was me, I realized. Was that really what I looked like? I hadn' t looked in a mirror for a while.

"We've spoken to the editor," Mrs. Jones said, smiling. I still didn't get one, itsy-bitsy little detail.

"Where do I fit in to all of this?" I demanded. Mr. Blunt glared at me, his gaze icy.

"The competition allows the winner to take along one friend," he murmured.

"And..." I prompted, knowing I sounded a little impatient.

"You are going as Alex's girlfriend." Just like his name, Mr. Blunt was absolutely...blunt. I stared at him, not comprehending.

"Girlfriend?" I managed to choke out. Alex looked at me, a little startled. Like he couldn't think of anything wrong with that. And I certainly couldn't either; it just sounded a little extreme.

"Annamay, you've got three weeks to recover," Mrs. Jones told me, breaking through my thoughts. "But you, Alex, will be going to training camp."

"I think that's a little unfair," I put in. Alex threw me a grateful glance. "I've been there lots of times; no reason for me not to go now."

"Fine," Mr. Blunt grunted, obviously tired of this conversation. "You can both go. But before you start packing, you might want to the toy shop down the road, and get your gadgets." I nodded. Alex's brilliant green eyes lit up.

"I get _gadgets_?" he cried. I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing. Of course, I'd been excited to get my first gadgets, too. Mr. Blunt snorted, and then turned to his laptop, which signified the conversastion was now over. I turned toward Alex, walked over to grab his hand, and then pulled him out of the door after me.

"Where are we going?" he asked. I slowed down so that we were walking side by side, although I kept my hand in his.

"We're going to get your gadgets, silly," I said, smiling at him.

"Then what are we waiting for?" he asked as we stopped at the elevator. I cuffed him lightly over the head, already at home with him around.

"The elevator, idiot."


	3. Chapter Three The Training Camp

Chapter Two The Training Camp

We'd gone to get the gadgets from the toy shop down the road. Mr. Smithers, the inventor, had been delighted to see us.

"Good, good," he'd muttered, and then set to work showing us what we would be taking to Cornwall, where Mr. Sayle's incorporation was located. Alex was taking an acidic, metal eating zit cream that only worked with metal (obviously), a modified Nintendo DS with several games, a parachute disguised as a backpack, and a motorized yo-yo. Mr. Smithers had gone to town with the whole 'girlfriend' thing.

"You're going to need some makeup," he'd said, smirking.

"No," I snarled. But he'd handed me a lipstick tube anyway.

"This," he'd said, "will eat through metal, like this young man's zit cream." I rolled my eyes, and then he handed me an eyeshadow pad.

"What does this do?" I demanded. He looked at me, surprised.

"It's just for fun," he'd said innocently. I growled, and slammed it down on the table. I know I probably looked like a brat right at that moment to Alex, but I was NOT wearing makeup. I'd never much paid attention to my looks; I certainly hadn't had time to apply makeup everyday.

"I don't think she should take that," Alex had said, "It's not like her." I shot him a grateful glance for getting me out of the eyeshadow. Mr. Smithers had grumbled, but taken the pad away.

He'd then handed me the usual assortment of throwing knives, and poisons. Alex had stared as I deftly hefted the knives in my hands, and slid them into my boots, sleeves, and into a long scabbard attached to my back, underneath my shirt. I was careful not to let Alex see when I'd slid the knife under my shirt, for the obvious reasons.

We'd then been sent off to the army training camp. This was only the fifteenth time I'd been to the camp, but I was sure Alex had never been. Of course, as of right now, he'd been at the camp for, oh, five minutes. I was sure trouble would come calling soon. But who knew it would be a man named Wolf to bring it?

"Hey, you!" a voice bellowed, "What do you think you're doing, kid?" A large black man was directing his words at Alex.

"I'm here to train," Alex replied. I envied his calmness; my blood was boiling. The man snorted.

"Yeah, right, they'd really send kids in here?" he snarled, obviously unbelieving. I rolled my eyes, and stepped behind Alex, placing a hand on his shoulder. The man caught side of me, and his eyes almost bulged out of his head.

"They sent a GIRL?" he roared. He stepped closer to us. I pushed Alex out of the way, setting myself in front of him. The black man laughed.

"I doubt you could fight me," he smirked. I rolled my eyes.

"Bring it," I snarled.

"Riiiiight," he laughed. I lunged at him, and he knocked me to the ground. My breath left my body with a whoosh. God, he was strong! I swung my legs at him, slicing his own out from underneath him. He went down with an even bigger thud than I had. I leapt on top of him, pinning his arms down with my knees. He grunted.

"Get off," he growled.

"Not until you admit you're beat," I hissed. He scowled, eyes full of fury. He struggled underneath me; I balled my fist up, and swung. CRACK! His nose broke underneath my punch. His eyes watered; blood ran from his nostrils. I arched my back, flipping off of his chest, and landing on my feet. Alex stared at me with undisguised wonder.

"Don't EVER try to fight me again," I snarled. "I will not be so nice next time."

"What is going on in here?" another voice demanded. Colonel Markus marched in, and saw the black man on the floor. "Wolf, what happened, and who broke your nose?" Wolf just pointed at me. I smirked.

"Beaten by a girl, eh, soldier?" the colonel said.

"Yes, sir," I laughed.

"At attention, Wildcat," the colonel sniffed, obviously not pleased to see me. I rolled my eyes, and folded my arms.

"And you are?" the colonel snapped, turning his attention from me in exasperation. I realized he was talking to Alex.

"Alex, sir," Alex said coolly.

"We have no names here, boy," the colonel barked. "You will be called…Cub."

"Wow, really creative," I said, "I think I might die of boredom."

"Be quiet unless you're spoken to!" the colonel snapped. But he knew he had no control over me.

"Whatev," I muttered. "Come on, Alex, we need to unpack." I deliberately turned my back on Colonel Markus, and walked back to my cot.

Alex suffered while we were there. He got dropped during zip-line practice, and had to run five miles soaking wet with ice water. Wolf and the rest of the soldiers were out to make his life miserable, doing everything possible to make it look like he wasn't capable of anything. That night, after his run, he lay shivering on his cot.

"Alex?" I asked, "Are you alright?"

"N-n-n-o," he managed to get out, his teeth chattering. His gorgeous eyes were filled with misery.

"Alex," I murmured, and laid a hand on his cheek. I had taken my bright red hair down from its customary ponytail; as I leaned over him, it brushed his cheek. He smiled at me. His skin was like ice.

"Wow," I whispered. I grabbed the blankets from my own bed, and slung them over his body. I waited for him to get warm; he didn't. I thought of the other option: to get into the cot with him, and use my own body heat to get him warm. I shook my head; I would only use that as a last resort.

But he still didn't get any better. I hissed in fury; it had been Wolf's fault Alex got dropped. I stripped off my boots, and slid under the covers with Alex. His body was so cold…I wrapped my arms around him, drawing him close. I could feel his frozen fingers bury themselves in my hair. He pressed me close, grateful for my warmth.

I never remembered falling asleep. But when I woke up, Alex was way warmer.

"Thanks," he murmured. I blushed, embarrassed.

"You were freezing," I muttered, and scrambled away.

That day, I was supposed to do martial arts with the rest of the men. Alex was sitting out. I kicked, rolled, and beat all of them, including Wolf. I went extra hard on him, to get back at him for Alex. He left with another bloody nose, and some really big bruises.

The last night finally came. We were on our final test; scout, infiltrate, and get out. Wolf had the map. We trekked, slithered on our stomachs, and were almost there, when Wolf turned the flashlight on to look at the map.

Floodlights came on, and we knew we had failed.

"Idiot," I hissed underneath my breath. We were escorted to the 'binned' cabin, to wait without food and water until the next day. I noticed the chimney on our way in.

"You had the map!" Tiger, one of the other men, exploded. Wolf just shook his head. I went over the wall. There should be a fireplace right about here…

"You saw it too," Alex whispered.

"Yeah," I said, and knocked on the wall. It sounded hollow. One, two, three…BAM! I kicked the wall, and a huge chunk of it fell away, revealing a fireplace. I stuck my head in, and looked up. I saw a small piece of light at the top; it was clear.

I hauled myself up the chimney, and onto the roof. Quickly, I slid to the ground, and unbolted the doors, setting the men free.

Later, they all agreed that I was okay, for a girl. We were ready to go when it came time; Alex was eager to leave. Wolf shook my hand, rolling his eyes like 'I can't believe I'm doing this' was running through his head.

"Let's go," I muttered, and leapt into the Jeep that had come for us, with Alex scrambling in right behind me, and leaving the training camp behind.


End file.
